


Flowers at Christmas

by nikkilious77



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Christmas, M/M, Mutual Pining, References to Depression, References to anxiety, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Soulmates, Swearing, parental neglect, sprace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkilious77/pseuds/nikkilious77
Summary: A Sprace Christmas time soulmate AU! The only relationship focused on is Spot and Race, all other relationships in the tags are only mentioned. Enjoy!!!





	Flowers at Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for grammar and/or spelling errors, I proof read it the best I could :)

From the time you are born, whatever your soulmate writes or draws on their skin will show up in the exact same spot on your own. The scribbles remain on your skin as long as they were on your soulmate’s. Some people used this to their advantage to find their soulmate early on. They’d have conversations with them and eventually agree on a place to meet. Others didn’t bother with ever doing anything to their skin so not to even let their soulmate know they were there.

Spot first noticed and questioned this phenomenon in elementary school. He would come home, day after day, with marker smears covering his hands when he didn’t remember using markers in school. His mother always simply told him that’d she’d explain it when he was a little older when he’d be able to understand.

Middle school came and Spot began to notice more intelligent writing onto back of his hand once in a while. It wouldn’t be very often, most of the time they were just reminders of some kind. Like Buy Whatever middle school curriculum novel they’d be reading next for class, or Finish essay for history. And sometimes they weren’t school related at all, Grandma’s birthday, Saturday. However, the notes only came a handful of times, there one day and gone the next.

This is when Spot finally learned about soulmates. He always thought it was kind of stupid. Who says that you’re only supposed to ever be with one person? What if the system is flawed? So, in rebellion to this, Spot vowed to never write on his arms, legs, or anywhere on his body, for that matter, to give his soulmate absolutely no insight as to who he was. However, as much as Spot tried to distance himself from the soulmate topic, it was never far away.

By high school, that’s all his friends ever seemed to talk about. Especially after some of them began finding their soulmates. Jack and Davey, Finch and Crutchie, Sarah and Katherine, and many of the others in their group were close to finding theirs. A few of them had already found their soulmate without realizing, *cough* Specs and Romeo *cough*, but the group agreed to let the two of them figure it out on their own.

Albert, Darcy, and Jojo all talked with their soulmates on their arms, but never made any move to meet up with them or learn their name. Their attitudes were more of a laid back, “it’ll happen when it happens”, mindset. Race was the only one that whined about his soulmate, complaining that they never doodled on themselves. It was almost a daily thing.

“My soulmate is so boring… they never write on themselves or anything.” Race pouted at lunch one day.

“Oh, quite gripping! Maybe they just don’t like to write on themselves.” Jack retorted.

Davey shoved him, “Jack, don’t be so discouraging! I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Race. Maybe your soulmate, for one reason or another, hasn’t been taught about soulmates yet, or is confused about them. They’re out there.”

Behind closed doors, Spot knew of Race’s deeper fears beyond this mindless complaining. Right before high school began, Race was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. His mind often went to a dark place whenever soulmates were brought up. The voices in his head told Race that he, in fact, didn’t have a soulmate, he was too unlovable, that he was just a flaw in the system.

Race always came to Spot on the dark days. And Spot was always there for his best friend whenever he was needed. He vowed to never let Race suffer through it alone.

“Spottie, what if I don’t have a soulmate? What if I’m right? What if I don’t deserve to have a soulmate?” Race cried into Spot’s shoulder one night.

“No, Antonio, don’t say that…” Spot cradled Race in his arms as he cried, “Your soulmate is out there searching for you just as much as you are searching for him. The voices in your head are entirely wrong. You deserve love and your soulmate is out there.”

“You think so?” Race whispered. He lifted his head from Spot’s shoulder to look into his eyes.

Spot looked back with a reassuring gaze and whispered, “I know so…”

Spot came out as bisexual during winter of his sophomore year, fitting in nicely with the rest of his friends, none of whom happened to be straight. He had his fair share of hookups and short-term relationships throughout high school, nothing was ever serious. He wasn’t trying to find his soulmate, in fact that was the exact opposite of what he was trying to do. This was his way of saying to society, “Fuck the system!” All of his friends knew this and on multiple occasions tried to tell him this wasn’t the way to go about life.

“Come on, Conlon, think of how happy you’d be with your soulmate!” Sarah once reasoned with him. However, Spot Conlon was never known for the sunshine he radiated, and brushed off her words, but they always stuck with him in the back of his mind.

While Spot didn’t search for his soulmate, Race began desperately looking for his. Through high school, he dated more guys than anyone else in their group, hoping that he’d find his soulmate. It was all he wanted. Sophomore year was the same year Race came out, only a few months after Spot did. Spot had known Race was gay for almost three years at this point; Race had confided in him back in middle school. However, unlike Spot, who had acceptance and support from his mother and friends, Race’s only support came from his friends. His parents weren’t so accepting, being of a traditional Catholic Italian heritage. Race was kicked out the very same day.

Race was heart-broken, at sixteen he was disowned and cut off from his family entirely. Spot’s mother adored Race and immediately told Race he could stay in their spare room as long as he liked. Race refused the offer for the sole reason that he knew it would be harder on her. She was a single parent, money was already tight for her and Spot; Race couldn’t add to that burden despite how much she insisted everything would turn out alright.

Instead, Race ended up moving in with Jojo and Darcy’s family where he was welcomed and adored just the same. After taking Race into her care, Jojo and Darcy’s mother learned of his depression and anxiety and immediately began researching for any way she could help if the need ever arose. This included setting up a bi-weekly counseling for Race to attend. She knew that if she in fact could not help, then a professional certainly could.

The last thing she wanted to do was make Race uncomfortable, so before she set up anything concrete, she asked him if this would be alright with him. He agreed to the arrangement without hesitation. He wanted help and this was way more than anything his parents had ever done to make an effort to help him. They had never believed their son ever needed any real help; they always assumed he was overreacting.

Through the rest of tenth grade and the following summer, Race had been in a darker place than he’d ever been before. His family didn’t want him, so why would anyone else? The counselling certainly helped but he still began pushing people away, including Spot. Spot would never say it aloud, but this hurt. He wasn’t going to let Race go that easily. As promised before, Spot was there the whole time even if he had to fight for Race to let him in.

Junior year began and with classes, sports, working, SAT’s and beginning to prepare for college, soulmates were the last thing Spot wanted to think about. More so than usual, that is. To say that he was only mildly annoyed when the intricate designs of flowers and swirls suddenly began appearing on the tops of his thighs almost daily, would be a complete understatement. It frustrated him to his core. He had a reputation to uphold! Spot Conlon could not be seen with stupid little blue flowers covering his legs.

He never said anything to anyone about the doodles, hoping that if he ignored both them and the person drawing them, they’d stop. Over the next several weeks the drawings slowed, but they never stopped. They still came once or twice a week and soon enough Spot would find himself looking forward to whatever scenery his soulmate envisioned next. They’d bring a smile to his face when he woke up to drawings that hadn’t been there when he’d climbed into bed. And Spot must admit, whoever his soulmate was got noticeably better with their drawing skills over those several weeks. He noticed through the holidays the drawings intensified in frequency, sometimes multiple different ones appeared in the span of a day.

Now he certainly couldn’t tell anyone and he didn’t plan on it. Spot was known as the one that hated the soulmate system; he couldn’t just suddenly change his mind. Once again, he had his reputation to uphold: Spot Conlon was no sap.

Throughout junior year, Spot and everyone else noticed a change in Race. It was hard and it was slow, but gradually, Race turned back into the Race everyone knew in middle school. The jokester, the witty, sarcastic one, the one people could always rely on for a smile. Sure, there were still bad spells, but no one realized how broken Race had gotten until now.

Senior year flew by. Spot was the star quarterback of the football team. He could’ve gone anywhere he wanted on a football scholarship but, much like most of his friends, he decided on New York University. It was close to home and, more important to him, Spot would be close to Race. After college decisions were made, the two agreed to room together.

Spot knew it was wishful thinking, but, at this point, he hoped that if anyone was his soulmate, it would be Race. Spot knew his soulmate was still out there, the drawings continued through the rest of high school, but he wished it was Race drawing the flowers more than anything. He was already so comfortable with Race; would he be able to experience that comfort with someone else? Spot also could never tell if Race drew on his legs or not, Race never wore shorts so it was impossible to tell. He just thought Race was so pretty with his curly hair and bright blue eyes and infectious laugh.

Jack was the only one that caught on to this. He caught Spot’s longing gaze fixed on Race one day. He teased him relentlessly but also encouraged him to embrace the feelings.

“Spottie, you never know if you don’t say anything to him. Maybe Race is your soulmate!” Jack tried convincing him one summer evening.

Spot sipped the beer in his hand as Jack spoke before responding, “One, never call me ‘Spottie’ again and two, there’s no point. Race isn’t my soulmate, that’s the bottom line.”

Jack sighed in frustration and held his hands up, “Whatever man, it’s up to you.”

Freshman year of college, Spot and Race shared a dorm room. Spot decided to study law, Race was still on the fence, leaning towards engineering and mechanics, so he was currently focusing on science and mathematics in undergrad.

They’d go out and party nearly every weekend. Race, and sometimes Spot too, would hook up with someone to spend the night with. Spot tried staying away from that now that his mind was fixed on the thought of Race. If he did hook up with someone, it was always due to drunkenness. Unfortunately, it was almost certain Race would always leave the party with someone that wasn’t Spot.

Spot warned him on multiple occasions that this method maybe wasn’t the best idea. Every time Race had the same answer, “Tell ya what? If I’m ever in trouble, I’ll call ya!” Finished off with his signature cocky smirk.

That call did come one Saturday night, well technically Sunday morning. It was the one weekend Spot stayed in the dorm room instead of going out with Race. He had a paper to finish for Monday that he had yet to start until that day. Spot had only laid down an hour ago when he heard his phone ring at two in the morning so naturally he ignored it hoping it was a miscall. But when the phone began ringing a second time, Spot groaned angrily and rolled over. Picking his phone up off the nightstand, he didn’t even bother looking at the caller ID as he answered it. Spot’s only words was a groggy, angry, “What?!”

“Spottie!” Race’s terrified cry echoed through the phone and rang in Spot’s ears. Spot jolted upright, eyes wide, immediately he was wide awake.

“What is it, Racer? What’s wrong?” Spot held his phone between his shoulder and the side of his face as he rushed to pull on his shoes and a shirt. In the background, Spot could hear yelling and banging accompanied by Race’s fearful crying. “Race come on, talk to me! Are you hurt?”

“Not really…” Race mumbled. Spot was already out of the dorm room and making his way out of the building.

“Race, I need you to talk to me. What’s going on?” Spot asked, worriedly.

“This guy- he- he wouldn’t stop- I told him to stop and he wouldn’t listen-“ Spot’s breath hitched and he almost stopped dead in his tracks. He pushed the shock to the back of his mind and continued on.

“Where are you now? Are you safe?” Spot picked up the pace of his walking, the banging seemed to intensify on the other end.

“I- I don’t know- I locked myself in the bathroom to get away-“ Spot could hear the panic in Race’s voice. Race could hold his own if he ever needed to, but Spot could tell he was in no condition to do so.

“Tell me where you are, I’ll get there as soon as I can. I’m already on my way. Don’t move!” Spot ordered. Race gave him the address of the apartment he was at. Spot ran there as fast as he could. Once he reached the door, he could hear the yelling coming from inside. Luckily for him, the door to the apartment was somehow unlocked. The guy inside was momentarily distracted by Spot’s entrance.

“Who the fuck are you?!” He asked, pointing a finger at him. His face was red with anger, his anger did not compare to Spot’s though. Spot’s hands balled into fists as he wasted no time marching straight up to the guy and punching him square in the face, instantly knocking him out. Spot breathed a sigh of relief as he saw no sign of a hurt Race.

Spot walked up to the door the guy was previously banging on and gently knocked, “Racer, you in there? It’s Spottie…” Spot heard a sniffled and some shuffling. An instant later the door opened to reveal Race kneeling on the ground behind the door, tears rushing down his cheeks.

“Spottie…” Race’s voice cracked. Spot dropped to one knee as Race threw himself into his arms. Spot ran his fingers through Race’s hair as he clutched the back of Spot’s jacket.

“It’s me, Antonio, I’m right here…” Spot whispered.

“I was so scared, Spot. He wouldn’t stop banging on the door and- and I didn’t know how much longer you were going to be and-“ Race sobbed, his body shaking with each cry.

Spot shushed him, “Shh…. It’s alright, you’re okay. He’s not going to do anything to you, I promise.”

Race eventually pulled back and forced a chuckled through his tears, “I guess you were right about hookups not being the safest thing…” He shook his head disappointingly, “I should have just listened to you…”

“Race, no, stop! It is not your fault that he tried to take advantage of you! Do not blame yourself for this, okay?” Spot looked Race in the eyes.

Race nodded and squeezed his eyes causing a few more tears to fall, “Spot, can we leave now?” Race asked, shakily. Spot just nodded in response before helping Race to his feet.

Spot ended up carrying Race on his back for most of the way back to their dorm room, but he didn’t mind. Race had had a rough night and if riding on Spot’s back brought him comfort and made him feel safe, Spot was willing to let Race stay there forever. Race asked Spot to stay by his side the whole night, Spot obliged and held his best friend against his chest as they slept.

After that night, Race almost entirely stopped with the hook ups. He still went out and went to parties but more often than not, he would return to the dorm room with Spot at the end of the night. Spot knew he was safe and that’s all that mattered.

Although the hookups stopped, Race still searched for his soulmate. Much like in high school, Race whined and complained that he hadn’t found his yet. And although Race never said it out loud anymore, Spot knew that he was still afraid his soulmate wasn’t out there.

“Racer, why don’t you try writing a message to your soulmate on your arm? Something they could respond to.” Spot suggested one day. They both laid on Spot’s bed, Spot was studying for mid-year exams, Race had his head laid in Spot’s lap.

“He’s never written or drawn anything before, why would he start now?” Race sighed.

“You never know until you try. You’ll find him, Race, just hold on to that…” Spot pointed out. Race never gave a response.

Fast forward to sophomore year of college, Spot and Race still roomed together. This year it was in an off-campus apartment. Race officially decided on mechanics for his major and picked up a job at a local auto shop down the street. Spot’s intense course load didn’t leave him much time for a job, but he worked as a cook in a pizza joint on campus whenever he could.

Between classes and jobs, the two didn’t see each other as often as before and rarely partied anymore. Whenever they had the night off together, Spot and Race would just relax in their apartment catching up on TV shows or watching stupid movies. Sometimes they’d go a week or more without one of these nights and Spot would miss Race and Race missed Spot. Sure, they slept one room apart and had breakfast together and would talk then, but it wasn’t the same.

Spot’s yearning for Race grew. He loved hearing Race sing at the top of his lungs and dance when he thought no one was watching as he would cook dinner for the both of them. He loved watching Race study and the look of concentration that would form on his face. He loved the way Race would tug his lower lip between his teeth whenever he tried to hide something, making it impossible for him to lie. He loved the way Race would search for him and grab his hand whenever he was nervous or scared. Spot kept all this hidden deep inside though. As much as it pained him, he knew he wasn’t Race’s soulmate and there was nothing he could do about that.

The holidays were approaching. School break would start tomorrow, Monday, and everyone couldn’t wait. Spot was leaving school Saturday to go back home and stay with his mother through Christmas. Tonight, Spot and Race were having their annual night of Christmas movies, hot cocoa, and decorating. They’d done it for years, Race would go over to Spot’s and help the Conlon’s decorate their house for the holidays.

The decorating was done, Spot and Race now were seated on their couch watching the classic _It’s a Wonderful Life_. Race was stretched out on the couch with his feet resting in Spot’s lap. Both of them held their mugs of hot cocoa and sipped the drinks as they watched.

 _It’s a Wonderful Life_ was never one of Race’s favorites, not because he didn’t like the movie but because it always made him cry no matter how many times he watched it. So, Spot wasn’t surprised when he saw Race checking his phone out of the corner of his eye. However, what did surprise Spot was the sudden change in Race’s demeanor. All of a sudden, he became distant and unfocused even as he stared at the TV screen.

Spot looked over at him, “Hey, Race,” Race snapped his head towards Spot, “You okay?”

Race quickly nodded, “Oh, yeah, I’m alright.”

“You sure? You know you can tell me if something’s wrong.” Spot reassured him.

“I know I can, Spot,” Race gave him a small smile, “But really I’m okay…” Spot didn’t believe him but decided to let it go for now, Race would tell him when he’s ready.

The rest of the week, Race was extremely distant. Spot was getting worried and asked him several times if he was okay. Race always insisted he was fine. Spot was so concerned with Race he almost didn’t noticed the daily drawings on his legs. One day his legs were so heavily colored Spot couldn’t see any sliver of his skin. Spot could only run his fingers across the marks in amazement and wonder.

Christmas music played through the apartment as Spot packed for home Friday evening. Race was sitting at Spot’s desk mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“You’re going to Jojo and Darcy’s, right?” Spot suddenly asked him.

“What?” Race asked in slight confusion.

“For Christmas, aren’t you going to Jojo and Darcy’s house?” Spot asked again. Race realized what he had asked.

“Oh, yeah- yeah, I’m going to their place… Their parents said I was always welcome for the holidays…” Spot sensed something was off about Race’s response but decided not to question it.

Spot left for home and would text Race at least once a day. Generic things like saying that they should go see this movie Spot had just seen a commercial for and, once family started arriving at the house, Spot texted Race about his Uncle Jerry who was surprisingly out of jail. Race’s replies were few and usually consisted of only one or two words.

Spot explained his concern to his mom on December 23. “Sean, baby, you need to just relax. I know you’re worried about him but maybe he’s just been busy and hasn’t had much time to look at his phone.” She consoled him. He sat on the kitchen counter next to where she was making Christmas cookies. His eyes were focused down on his phone.

“I don’t know Ma, this isn’t normal… I just want to know if he’s okay.” Spot sighed.

“I know, baby, I know.” She stopped kneading the dough and took ahold of her son’s hand, “Why don’t you call him tonight? Maybe you’ll have more luck talking to him there.” She smiled reassuringly at him. Spot simply nodded.

Later that night, as the rest of the family was getting ready for bed, Spot stepped out on the front porch and dialed up Race’s number. It rang four times before voicemail answered.

 _Hey, it’s Race! Sorry I missed you, I’ll call you back as soon as I can!_ Spot’s heart slightly sank. Race always answered his calls. The beep sounded indicating Spot could start the message.

“Hey Racer, it’s me, Spot. I figured I’d give you a call, we haven’t talked in like a week. What’s up, why haven’t you been answering? Oh, and in case I don’t talk to you before Christmas, Merry Christmas, man. Tell Jojo and Darcy I say hi, too. Call me when you can! Later!” Spot ended the call and headed back inside.

Spot woke up on Christmas Eve to find his legs being covered with new drawings, different ones than that had been there when he fell asleep. For a minute, he sat and he watched the lines appear in real time. His soulmate was adding intricate details to the central flower on the design. Eventually, Spot was snapped out of his trance when his phone buzzed. Thinking it was a text from Race he grabbed it instantly, however it was only a notification from a news app.

Through all the festivities that day, Race constantly found his way to the front of Spot’s mind. He still hadn’t returned his call from the previous night and didn’t responded to any of his texts.

 **To RaceTrack: 9:09 AM** \- _Yo Race! Remember tomorrow’s Christmas, don’t have too much fun tonight ;)_

 **To RaceTrack: 12:32 PM-** _Dude, it’s barely even lunch and Jerry’s already hammered… -_- so glad I don’t have to deal with this all break…_

 **To RaceTrack: 2:56 PM-** _Did u lose ur charger again or forget it at home or something? Haven’t I told you to keep it by ur bed?_

 **To RaceTrack: 4:13 PM-** _Race, you couldn’t like spend the 5 bucks on a new charger so YOU HAVE A PHONE because god knows u r shit with people’s numbers_

 **To RaceTrack: 4:46 PM-** _U couldn’t just have Jojo text me saying u lost ur damn charger so idk THAT I KNOW YOU’RE ALIVE!!_

 **To RaceTrack: 5:27 PM-** _come on, Racer, give me some kind of response, something, anything_

Now it was approaching 6:30 PM and Race still hadn’t responded to any of Spot’s texts. Spot found himself checking his phone nearly every five minutes. He felt bad that he was focusing more on a piece of technology then he was his family, but this piece of technology was the only thing that could link him to Race. Race was the only thing Spot could focus on at the moment.

Spot scratched at his arm, nervously. His younger cousin, Luke caught sight of his arm. “Are those soulmate drawings?” He asked, excitedly. At first Spot was confused then he saw the ten-year-old pointing to his arm. Spot pulled up his sleeve to reveal the flowers and swirls.

“Oh, yeah, they are… I didn’t even realize they were there today. Usually they’re on my legs.” Spot explained.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” His Aunt Suzy asked, curiously.

“What are soulmates?” Spot’s eight-year-old cousin, Abigail, interjected.

“A soulmate is the person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with once you grow up. Like Daddy and I, we’re soulmates.” Suzy explained to her daughter.

“Yeah, and when your soulmate draws on their arm, it’ll show up on your arm, too. It’s like magic!” Luke added on. Abigail’s eyes got wide with wonder.

Before the chance presented itself for Suzy to ask again, Mrs. Conlon rescued Spot from the situation, “Sean, honey, can you please come help me with the dishes?” She asked from the living room entryway. Spot’s head shot up to his mom. He nodded at her as he stood up.

Once the two were alone in the kitchen, Mrs. Conlon spoke up, “Are you still worried about Antonio?”

Spot ran a hand through his hair, “Is it that easy to tell?”

“I’m your mother, I can tell what you’re thinking a mile away, but yes it’s pretty easy to see. I’ve never seen you check your phone so much in a day. Sean, I’m sure he’s just fine. You talked to him last night, didn’t you?” She leaned against her hand on the counter.

“That’s the thing, Ma… He didn’t answer and- and he hasn’t responded to any of my texts all day… Even on his bad days he’s never _this_ distant, he always tells me when everything’s not okay… I don’t know I’ve just got a bad feeling I can’t shake…” Spot looked away from his mother and glanced over his shoulder into the living room where his family all sat, talking and laughing.

“You said he was with Jojo and Darcy, right? Why don’t you text them and see what’s going on?”

“I hadn’t thought of that…” Spot mumbled and whipped out his phone. He began typing away.

 **To Jojo: 6:33 PM-**   _Hey Jojo, can u tell Race to check his phone? He hasn’t answered any of my texts all day_

Now, he waited for a reply which came less than a minute later.

 **From Jojo: 6:33 PM-** _What do you mean?_

 **To Jojo: 6:33 PM-** _What do you mean “what do you mean”?_

 **From Jojo: 6:34 PM-** _I mean, why do you need me to tell Race? Isn’t he with you?_

Spot’s heart stopped.

 **To Jojo: 6:34 PM-** _No…. He told me he was with you…_

 **From Jojo: 6:34 PM-** _Oh, boy… that’s not good… he’s not with us, he told us that he was staying with you_

“Shit!” Spot exclaimed, slamming his phone down. His mother smacked him with a dish towel.

“Sean Conlon, language!” She scolded.

“I’m sorry, Ma. Jojo just told me Race isn’t with them. Race told him and Darcy that he was coming with me…” Spot ran a hand through his hair. His mother’s face fell at the realization.

“Oh dear…” She exclaimed quietly.

“That means he’s still home.” Spot whispered to himself before turning to his mom, “I need to get him, Ma. I need to know if he’s alright.” Spot begged his mom. She placed a hand on the side of his face.

“Go to him, Sean, and bring him back. No one deserves to be alone on Christmas.” She kissed his forehead. He gave her a small smile before quickly turning grabbing his coat and keys and heading out the door.

This action caught the family’s attention, who all looked towards the door in concern before turning to Mrs. Conlon who stood in the kitchen doorway.

“Mama, where’s Sean going?” Luke asked.

“That’s an excellent question, where is he going, Linda?” Suzy asked.

“There’s no reason to worry, he’ll be back. He’s just going to get someone special.” She smiled, knowingly. The family questioned no further.

Spot drove faster than normal to return to his and Race’s apartment. He dialed up Race’s cell as soon as he left. But when it went to voicemail he hung up to try the apartment phone. That one went to voicemail too, but he decided to try his luck with leaving a message.

“Race, it’s me. I’m on my way, alright? Just hold on just a little bit longer. You’re going to be okay, alright?”

Spot hung up the phone and continued to wind through the intersections of New York. He was grateful there was almost no traffic on the roads. It made travel so much easier, and, with Spot’s driving, much safer with no other cars around.

Spot’s mind was running wild. _God dammit, Racetrack! Why didn’t he tell me things were bad? Why’d he lie to me and Jojo? What’d he tell everyone else? He knows I would’ve stayed with him…_

Spot pulled into the apartment complex parking lot and took in the first empty space he could. He was crooked and way over one line but he didn’t care. He jumped out and fumbled to find his apartment key as he ran up the stairs.

He opened the door as quickly as he could, finding the inside of his apartment dark. He flipped on the lights of the living room before throwing off his coat.

“Race! Race, where are you?” Spot began searching. The living room and kitchen were empty so Spot moved to the hallway. Spot could see light seeping through the crack of the bathroom door. He quickly moved down to the door. Before he entered he could hear sniffling.

“Antonio?” Spot spoke softly as he pushed the door open. The sight he saw broke his heart. Race was sat against the wall in a hoodie and basketball shorts, arms folded over his knees and head buried into his arms. At Spot’s voice, Race lifted his head slightly, catching a glance of Spot before throwing his head back into his arms.

“You shouldn’t be here. Why’d you come home?” Race’s voice was shaking and muffled.

“I was worried sick about you! Antonio, tell me what’s wrong?” Spot kneeled on the floor and crawled towards Race. When Spot laid a hand on Race’s arm, Race flinched away. Spot’s heart clenched but he moved his hand away. “Please, Race…” Spot whispered.

Race lifted his head and looked at Spot. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, he’d been crying for a while. “Sean, I can’t- you should just go back to your family.”

“I am not about to leave you here all by yourself crying. Please, tell me what’s going on. Tell me why you’re not okay…” Spot tried again to place a hand on Race’s, this time he didn’t flinch away.

Race seemed to shrink back further into the sweatshirt he was wearing. He bit his lip as more tears fell from his eyes. A choked sob escaped his lips before he answered. “No one wants me, Spot…” He looked down into his lap.

“What…?” Spot felt his chest ache with heartbreak.

“No one wants me… Not my family, not a soulmate, even when I’m with you or Jojo or anyone else I feel like all I’m doing is intruding… I don’t belong anywhere…”

“Antonio, that’s ridiculous-“ Spot began but Race’s head snapped up as he cut Spot off.

“Then why’d my family abandon me, huh?! Why do they not even acknowledge my existence?! Why do all I hear from them is that I’m wrong, that I’m a mistake?!” Race had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep himself from crying out loud as he began to sob.

“Race, your parents are assholes! You didn’t deserve to be kicked out! You didn’t deserve any of the shit they did to you! What on earth made you think like this?” Spot began in an angrier tone, anger towards Race’s mother and father, but ended with a softer tone.

Race stared off away from Spot for a minute before sighing and reaching to grab his phone off the counter. He sniffled as his shaky hands began tapping the screen. Once he found whatever he’d been searching for, he handed to phone over to Spot.

“My sister sent me this…” Race whispered. Spot looked down at the phone in his hand and began to read.

_I’m so sorry Tonio…_

Attached to the message was a screenshot of a Facebook post, posted by Race’s mother. It was a picture of the entire family, Grandma and Grandpa, mom and dad, and Race’s three younger siblings. The caption read, “It’s great to spend the holidays with the whole family :)"

After that there was another text.

_ I swear to god, as soon as I’m eighteen, I’m moving out and those monsters will never see me again!! What they did to you and how they treat you isn’t right! I hate them so much! I know whatever they’ve said about you is wrong, Antonio!! You’re not a mistake and I love you so much. I’m teaching Benito and Flora that what they are saying is wrong. They’re still learning but they’ve come so far. And I swear to you, there will be justice for how our parents have treated you, Antonio, I promise! I love you and I miss you… _

“Oh, Antonio…” Spot began but he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“They don’t even acknowledge that I ever existed, Spot… If my own family doesn’t want me who is ever going to…” Race blinked his eyes and tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I want you, Race, all your friends want you, your soulmate wants you…” It pained him to say it really, thinking about Race with someone other than him, but Race needed to hear it and the only thing Spot wanted to do was make Race feel better.

Race leaned his head back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. One of the legs of his shorts slid down as he leaned back, Race quickly fixed it, hoping Spot wouldn’t notice, but he did.

“Race, what are you hiding?” Spot asked concerned.

Race wouldn’t look at him, he bit his lip, “It’s nothing, Sean, just let it go.”

“I’m not about to just let it go! It’s obviously not nothing.” Spot pointed out. Race would not meet Spot’s eyes no matter how much Spot tried. Spot gently placed his hand on Race’s clenched fist resting atop his knee. He felt Race’s hand relax as he finally looked into his eyes, “Antonio…”

Race sighed, and collapsed in on himself trying to become as small as possible. He looked away from Spot once more as the tears flowed at a faster pace. Race pulled up the legs of his basketball shorts to reveal the relatively fresh slices covering his thighs, “I’m sorry, Spottie…” Race muttered.

“No… Race… why didn’t you tell me it was this bad? You know that I would have stayed with you…” Spot looked into Race’s eyes. Spot was on the brink of breaking down. How could Race hurt himself like this?

Through his cries Race answered, “That’s exactly what I didn’t want! You shouldn’t have to be away from your family on Christmas to take care of me! It’s not fair!”

“Everyone would have understood if I stayed, Race. How could you do this to yourself…”

“It hurt so bad on the inside, Spot,” Race’s fist lightly pounded against his chest, “I just wanted it to stop! Just once for it to stop! I tried to control, I really did! I didn’t want to do this but it was too much and I couldn’t take it anymore! I’m so sorry, Spot, please don’t be mad! I just wanted it all to go away!” Fear and sadness filled Race’s voice as he begged Spot. Race fell into Spot’s arms. Spot held him tightly.

“No, Race, I am not mad at you… You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, to help you when I should have been. I’m not mad at you, okay? I’m not going anywhere…” Spot comforted Race by running a hand through his hair. Race sat up and used the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe his tears as he nodded in understanding at Spot.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. Ma is expecting us back at the house.” Spot rose to his feet and held out his hands to Race. Race accepted and stood up also before Spot guided him to the counter and made him sit on it.

“Your mom is waiting for us?” Race asked in confusion. Spot bent down and searched under the sink for a washcloth.

Spot looked up at Race, before straightening up, washcloth in hand, “Yeah, I told her I was coming to get you. Roll up your shorts for me.” Race did as he was told. Spot rolled up his sleeves before filling the sink with water. He dipped the washcloth in the water.

“This might sting a little…” Spot warned, looking into Race’s eyes. Race simply nodded, giving Spot the okay to continue. He clutched the edge of the countertop, turning his knuckles white. Race hissed in pain as the warm cloth dabbed the dried blood on his thigh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Spot mutter as he continued. He shifted back over to the sink to rinse the cloth. Race’s eyes followed him and traveled down to Spot’s forearm. It was covered in very familiar looking flowers and swirls. Race squeaked before turning away blushing furiously.

Spot head snapped up at the noise, he dropped the cloth in the water and moved in front of Race. “Race, what’s wrong? What happened?” Spot asked worriedly. Race’s blush intensified and he found himself to once again be avoiding Spot’s gaze, this time for a different reason.

“Your- your arm.” Race stuttered out. His eyes flashed down to it before looking back off to the side. Race subconsciously took his lip between his teeth. Spot looked down at his arm in confusion, now realizing Race was referring to drawings.

“Oh yeah… those are uh… those are from my soulmate…” Spot said almost disappointingly. His eyebrows furrowed together as he continued to look at his arm. Race sensed Spot’s displeasure and looked at him with hurt in his eyes. When Race didn’t say anything, Spot went to move back over to the sink, but Race gently grabbed ahold of his wrist stopping him. Race’s eyes didn’t leave Spot as he turned to Race with curiosity.

Race let Spot’s wrist slip through his fingers and took a deep breath. It was now or never. His eyes moved down to his own arm, covered by the sweatshirt sleeve. Hesitantly, Race pushed up his sleeve to reveal identical drawings to the ones on Spot’s own arm. Spot’s mouth gaped open. It all clicked: Race was his soulmate…

Race couldn’t meet Spot’s eyes out of embarrassment, he looked at the floor as he spoke. “I started drawing on myself after I started seeing my counselor. She said it would help me from hurting myself and it did! …up until now. Usually I just drew on my legs, which you now know that, because they were so much easier to hide, no one would ask any questions. Then today… it was too much, I had to draw more and I ran out of space on my legs so I drew on my arm too…”

Spot was speechless, he couldn’t believe it. Race was his soulmate.  _ His  _ soulmate. The only person he ever truly wanted was destined to be his. Race, however, couldn’t read what Spot was feeling at the moment and began to panic.

He picked at the hem of his sweatshirt, “I know it’s probably not what you were expecting, and I know that it’s probably weird for you to have your best friend end up being your soulmate-“ Spot cut him off my placing a hand under Race’s chin. Spot lifted his head so he’d look at him.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else…” Spot reassured Race with a small smile.

“Really?” Race asked, hopefully.

“Really.” Spot whispered as he rubbed his thumb across Race’s cheek. Race blushed and looked down at the floor with a slight smile.

Spot finished cleaning up Race and had him change into a pair of Spot’s sweatpants, rather than keep the shorts on. Then he went and packed Race a bag for the rest of the week. Any sweatshirts or sweatpants Spot packed belonged to him rather than Race because he knew Race would beg to wear them anyways. Race laid on his bed watching Spot pack his stuff. He offered to do it himself, but Spot insisted he eat something. Spot noticed Race’s eyes starting to flutter closed. He chuckled to himself at the sight as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

Spot leaned on the bed and shook Race’s shoulder to wake him up. “Come on, Racer, we’ve got to leave.”

Race groaned and rubbed his eyes, “I’m so tired, Spottie…” He whined.

“I know Race, I know. Just a little bit longer and you can sleep, alright?” Spot held his hand out to Race who accepted it to sit up. Race slipped on his sneakers before once again taking Spot’s hand who led him out to the car.

Spot drove back to his mother’s house. Race dozed in the passenger seat, his hand wound together with Spot’s the whole ride. He woke up as Spot parked.

“We’re here, Race.” Spot said softly, gently rubbing his thumb across Race’s knuckles before releasing his hand. Race fiddled with his hands as an idea popped into his head. A blush crept onto his cheeks.

“Hey Spot…” Race said with whatever courage he could muster.

Spot curiously looked over at him, “Yes, Race.”

Suddenly, Race leaned over and planted his lips directly on Spot’s. It was over as soon as it happened, Spot was so shocked he didn’t have any time to react. Race went to jump out of the car but Spot pulled him back.

“Hey, you missed…” Spot smirked.

“What?” Race asked in confusion. It was made clear to him when Spot leaned in and kissed Race, much deeper and longer than before. Spot could feel the tension in Race’s muscles release underneath his fingertips as he melted into the kiss. Spot pulled away slowly and watched Race’s eyes flutter open. They looked at Spot in wonder, Spot could only smirk at the boy.

“Come on, Ma’s waiting.” Spot nodded his head towards the house. The two climbed out of the car and walked into the house. In the living room sat Spot’s mom and Abigail.

The two girls looked up at the sound of the door opening, Spot’s mom gave them a big smile. Race remained by the door awkwardly as Abigail padded towards him. Spot headed to his mom.

“He’s my soulmate, Ma… All this time it was Race.” Spot couldn’t help the smile on his face. Mrs. Conlon brushed her thumb over her son’s cheek giving him a heartwarming smile.

Meanwhile, Abigail seemed to be interrogating Race, as eight-year-olds often do. “What’s your name?” She asked staring up at him with her big brown eyes.

“Uh, my name’s Antonio, I’m uh… I’m a friend of Sp- I mean Sean’s.” Race answered.

“Oh, well my name’s Abigail, Sean’s my cousin,” She smiled proudly up at Race. One of her front teeth were missing. She cocked her head to one side, her face once again showing curiosity, “Are you his soulmate?”

Race’s eyes went wide and his face turned into a tomato. He didn’t know how to answer the little girl’s question and began tripping over his words. Luckily, Mrs. Conlon came to his rescue, “Abigail, sweetie, why don’t you head upstairs with Sean and he’ll tuck you into bed, okay? And remember, we can’t tell Mommy I let you stay up drinking hot cocoa.” She smirked at the child who went bounding over to Spot and took his hand.

“Okay, Auntie Linda, it’ll be our secret!” She beamed. Spot took the little girl and led her up the stairs, she began telling Spot about everything that happened since he left only hours before. Mrs. Conlon and Race watched them and once they were out of sight she turned to him.

She put her hands on his shoulders and smiled at him up and down, “Sean never talked about his soulmate drawings, so I never knew for certain, but something always told me it was you, Antonio. I don’t know what it was about you, but I always knew you were his soulmate… I guess you could just call it: mother’s intuition.”

Race blushed and looked at the floor, not really knowing what to say, he changed the subject, “I’m sorry this is so sudden and Spot had to leave on Christmas Eve to come get me and-“

“Antonio, you’re always welcomed here, good days and bad, holidays and weekdays. I love you, Sean loves you…” She trailed off. Race glanced up at her and stopped rubbing at the back of his neck. “Go on, go be with him…” She ushered Race away towards the stairs and smiled after him.

Race headed upstairs and found his way to Spot’s room like he had a million times before. Spot must have still been in Abigail’s room since his was empty. He slipped off his shoes and crawled into the bed, inhaling Spot’s scent on the pillow and relaxing into it. A minute later Spot entered the room and crawled in behind Race.

Spot’s arms wound their way around Race’s waist, Race rolled over to face Spot and snuggled into his chest. Spot traced his fingers across Race’s back to help sooth him to sleep. Spot began to feel Race drift towards unconsciousness, so he placed a feather light kiss to his forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Racer…” Spot whispered.

“Merry Christmas, Spottie…” Race responded before he finally drifted to sleep.

That night, along with many more, the two fell asleep in each other’s arms.


End file.
